Forever Young
by Stephane Richer
Summary: Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies


Forever Young

Disclaimer: I don't own "Forever Young" by Jay-Z or _Kuroko no Basuke_ by Fukimaki Tadatoshi.

* * *

He palms the basketball, then spins it on his finger, faster and faster and faster until it's just a blur of orange and black and he can't make out the name of the brand. Not that it matters. The spin and the breeze will create something irresistible to the man across from him; all Kise needs to do is be patient. He waits. The ball keeps spinning, and sure enough Aomine slaps it out of his hand. "Fine."

Of course. He pretends to be bothered by it, but Kise can tell that Aomine loves their one-on-ones every bit as much as he does. But there's no time to dwell on feelings right now because he's already dribbling past Kise.

Their sneakers scuff the asphalt, pounding and wearing down the treads already even though both pairs are relatively new. The basketball's barely out of Aomine's hand when it bounces back up, and Kise has no time to catch it but he ducks in anyway and steals the ball right before it hits Aomine's palm and runs the other way, brings the ball up to take a shot before Aomine jumps higher to block and the ball slams backwards behind Kise and he pivots but can't get there in time as Aomine breaks away to take it in for a dunk.

If only he could get there in time…he launches himself forward like a hypothetical rocket in a physics problem, hard, accelerating toward the net and brings his hand up, touches the ball but can't completely block it. It hits the rim and bounces out into his hands but he's still at the other end of the court so he can't really shoot from here. He could try using Midorima's ridiculous arcing shot, but that's just boring and slow and will probably get intercepted, so he tries to duck past Aomine again but this time he can't and he almost collides with a massive tan forearm, already glistening with sweat. Fuck.

He fakes the other way, but Aomine's not fooled and he's already halfway back so he can't actually commit and his split hesitation lets the ball trickle from his hand and it's impossible to win thinking against this guy who knows basketball better than himself, or maybe he just _is_ basketball and it's so easy for Aomine to get the dunk and he's kind of hopeless right now. Aomine gives him back the ball and smiles that ridiculously coy grin (at least he didn't hang on the basket when he dunked) and Kise's expression hardens because he will not lose this time. For sure.

He's blowing past Aomine, knows exactly where he is on the court and then launches a shot. He knows Aomine's coming to block it and lets him block it because it's not a straight shot. It's an alley-oop to himself, and the ball twists at the last second to the other side of the basket and Kise dunks it in. Of course, he's revealed something else he can do and now Aomine can predict it and stop it (probably even before it begins) but the score is even now and they're back where they started.

"You're not a lefty."

Kise shrugs. "I've picked up a few things." He went to a pro game where one of the players was a big lefty from Canada who mowed down the defence in front of him and dunked effortlessly. It was beautiful and just the thing Kise needed for his arsenal.

He passes Aomine the ball and they're off again. The way the ball hits the pavement as they dribble is beautiful, hard and cracking and familiar. Kise knows there's a silly grin on his face but he doesn't care because right now it's just him and Aomine and the basketball and there could be a million people watching but it doesn't matter.

They're still even when the sun sets and they're about to collapse, and it's a mutual decision to lean on one another against the base of one of the hoops, basketball in between them like it's their baby.

"Good game," Aomine says.

"Yeah," Kise replies.

What else is there to say? He can think of a billion stupid, corny things to say but he's matured enough to know they'd ruin the moment and besides he's so tired and gasping for air that he can't waste words now. Aomine's hands find his, and their fingers lock into one another's and he can tell Aomine is reading his thoughts right now so it doesn't matter if he says anything but he really wants to and his breath is slowing and lightening, so he buries his face into the crook of Aomine's sweaty neck (which is really disgusting, but it's not like he's totally sweat-free or anything) and murmurs, "I love you, Aominecchi."

Aomine elbows him in the side, sending him sprawling onto the rough, grey asphalt.

"So mean…" Kise whines, but he notices that Aomine's hand is still entwined with his and so he keeps smiling.

"It's hot," Aomine says. "I don't want your disgusting sweaty body all over me."

"B-but…"

"Let's go home and take a shower together," he says suggestively, pulling Kise up roughly, suddenly full of more energy.

"Such a pervert…and, hey, don't forget the basketball!" Kise leans down to pick it up as Aomine tugs on his arm.

"Whatever. It's your basketball, not mine." But he waits anyway.

Aomine doesn't even wait for them to get their clothes off before he shoves Kise in the shower and turns on the cold water. Kise almost squeals at the touch of the water but then Aomine is kissing him and it's such a distraction that he doesn't even register the water pouring over his head and down his neck, soaking his shirt and shorts again after the sweat has just barely dried. He's moving his hands up under Aomine's shirt and Aomine lifts his arms so he can take off the shirt and he can't tell what's sweat and what's water from the shower on the dripping skin in front of him, and he doesn't really care right now.

They're in the shower for another hour and a half racking up the water bill and not really getting clean until the end of it but Kise doesn't care. He just wants this to last forever, this day, these days. He knows it can't, but if he can just have basketball and sex and time, time with Aomine, he'll be happy and fulfilled. Nothing else matters.

He lies on the couch, the TV on mute, Aomine dozing off beside him. Kise traces his jawline with a finger, memorizing it over and over and over again, cementing it. Eventually Aomine places a hand over Kise's and smiles, bringing both of their hands down. "I love you, too."


End file.
